Bubble Poem by Nkululeko Mdudu

Bubble in a bowl
Constantly persued by the cold stirring spoon.

Clear neutral son of liquid and air,
What could you have done but the curse of being there?

Too many of you will give me gas so I must break you down;
starting with the larger more visible ones that float on top,
then finely sifting through the little ones all around.

Bubble in a bowl
Constantly persued by the cold stirring spoon.

Once swimming in careless custard,
now dead and invisible in space.